In this collection of thought-provoking essays, columnist Eric Hunter provides a crystal-clear snapshot of the gay cultural zeitgeist of the late '90s and early '00s.
Taking on topics ranging from the AIDS pandemic and gay marriage to light hearted looks at gay monogamy and bridging the gay generation gap, Hunter portrays gay life with humor and sincerity. Intelligent and heartfelt, "Column Inches: Everyday Observations of a Gay Pragmatist" focuses the spotlight on universal issues that face the GLBT community while calling on readers to do their part to challenge stereotypes and work for equality for all Americans.
Email the author at: columninches@nyc.rr.com
June 2006 Journal Entry
I have always had this romantic notion that keeping a journal is an inescapable part of being a writer. Pick up a garden variety book on the "writing life," or making your living as a writer and you are sure to see a chapter on the benefits of capturing one's daily thoughts and musings on a regular basis. From exercising your powers of observation to developing a voice, the benefits of keeping a journal are reportedly irrefutable. The act of keeping a journal, however, has never been as alluring for me as the idealized picture of it I have in mind. I imagine myself sitting in a lush park or at chic café studiously recording my witty anecdotes. I am forever buying beautiful, precious notebooks in the hope that they will inspire me to put pen to paper regularly in the pursuit of a wickedly clever column, the great American novel or just a more actualized life-whatever that means. My current favorite notebook brand is Moleskin. The company's Web site describes them as "the legendary notebook of artists, writers, intellectuals and travelers." If they were good enough for Henri Matisse, Van Gogh and Ernest Hemingway, they are good enough for me. The notebooks are wonderfully compact each with its satisfyingly stiff, black cover, a handy elastic band that holds it closed and an ingenious storage pocket hidden on the inside face of the back cover. I love them so much that in the course of writing this I couldn't help myself but take a quick break to order two reporter notebooks and an accordion file and sign up for the Moleskin e-mail newsletter. Apparently I am not the only Moleskin fanatic. The funny things is, though, I have two of these notebooks sitting on my desk right now, neither of which has a single word written in it. In fact, I have accumulated a stack of notebooks of various brands and configurations, thinking that their literary aura will inspire me to chronicle my inner daily dialog: the austere spiral bound Miquelrius with is brightly color-tipped pages; a Clairefontaine composition book with a flexible, color-blocked cover; and the supremely simple Rhodia staple bound tablet covered in the company's signature blindingly orange cover. Sadly, they all remain entirely, or almost entirely, empty. I rationalize this by telling myself that I am more of a write-by-word-processor type of guy. I type much faster than I write, which is important for a habitual multitasker with the attention span of gnat. When I write longhand my mind races pages ahead of my aching hand and I quickly lose focus. But don't be fooled. I don't have a 100-megabyte digital journal either. What about a blog? Thousands of them pop up every day you say. Believe me, I'm trying.(A writer has to promote his work, right?) But these things are time suckers. You have to post regularly to keep the content fresh. You have to stay abreast of other peoples' blogs so your blogroll (the list of links to other cool sites) is fresh. And then you have to promote it so you have readers. Whew. I get tired just describing the whole Sisyphean process. When I started thinking about putting this book together, I realized that a collection of my favorite columns is a type of journal or diary for me. It chronicles a specific time in the gay cultural zeitgeist both nationally and locally in my hometown of Cincinnati-not to mention five years of my own growth as a gay man. Collectively, I hope the columns remind you of the battles we have won, the issues and discrimination we are all still fighting and the universal truths that connect us all. Individually, I hope they inspire you to think, ask questions, speak out and take action. I know rereading them has me pondering my gay and lesbian generation, where we fit in, and what defines us within the larger gay rights movement. We are sandwiched between the first openly gay-identified generation whose energies and numbers were decimated by the onset and growth of the AIDS pandemic and Generation Q who are growing up out of the closet. Are we destined to live out our years pining for the sexual liberation of the 1970's and admiring the gay youth of today for eschewing labels in a time of gay parenting, gay adoption and gay-identified high schools? How will we leave our mark? Have we missed the boat? I haven't found the answer. But you can bet I'll keep thinking and writing to do my best to figure it out. And hopefully this book is a first step in the right direction.
